Jack Frost is Asking for an Ass-Kicking
It's days like this I'm glad I'm endothermic.
It snowed last night in the Elm City; temperatures have dropped into the low teens. It's the kind of weather in which your breath freezes to your beard and moustache on the way out. (A pleasant experience, as you've no doubt surmised.) It's so cold that my lunch went from hot to tepid, even in a styrofoam container, on the five-minute walk from the buffet home. (It recovered after a brief stint in the microwave, but still....) I'm only just beginning to be able to feel my toes again.
Baby, it's cold outside.
It snowed last night in the Elm City; temperatures have dropped into the low teens. It's the kind of weather in which your breath freezes to your beard and moustache on the way out. (A pleasant experience, as you've no doubt surmised.) It's so cold that my lunch went from hot to tepid, even in a styrofoam container, on the five-minute walk from the buffet home. (It recovered after a brief stint in the microwave, but still....) I'm only just beginning to be able to feel my toes again.
Baby, it's cold outside.
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